 | The Orphan of China |  |
SCENE III.
Gengissolus.
Fate will not be oppos'd; and doubtless Heav'n
Destines her for me.—What avails my greatness?
I have made wretches, and myself am wretched.
Of all the savages that fill my train,
Greedy of combat, prodigal of blood,
Has ever one spoke words of comfort to me,
Or sooth'd the anguish of my aching soul?
Have all these states enslav'd e'er given my breast
One hour of peace? Ah! no: my wearied soul
Still sought some pleasing error, to disperse
The gloomy night of care, and to afford
Some consolation on the throne of Empire.
Octar has shock'd me with his horrid counsel.
I am environ'd with a bloody train
Of fell assassins, disciplin'd to death,
And form'd for ravage; born alone for war,
And shocking to a soul, refin'd by love.
Let them fight for me, follow me to death,
But never dare my actions to arraign.
Where is my Idamè?—'Tis she; she comes.
| The Orphan of China | |